


i am wild (i will sing to the trees)

by radianceofthefuture



Series: Joy [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Choir AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 19:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radianceofthefuture/pseuds/radianceofthefuture
Summary: Enjolras is absolutely not envious, thank you very much. After all, he’s a better singer than Grantaire, with a wider range and better technique, so it doesn’t matter all that much that he is not as popular among his peers as Grantaire is. Nor does it matter that every time Grantaire speaks or sings or blinks or breathes, Enjolras feels like his insides might just grow wings and fly away.A high school choir AU wherein Enjolras is very driven and Grantaire is not as infuriating as he should be.





	i am wild (i will sing to the trees)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! After years of reading fanfiction, I’ve finally given in and started writing it. Hope you enjoy!

It’s the same shit every day, and Enjolras doesn’t even know why he’s surprised at this point.

He arrives at school by seven o’clock, at which time kindly Sister Simplice, the choir teacher, promptly begins leading the auditioned advanced ensemble in warmups. They conclude warming up at around seven fifteen, and at seven twenty, twenty minutes after the start of class, Grantaire waltzes in. Sister Simplice never says a word about Grantaire’s chronic tardiness, even though his attendance record must be shit and this class is graded in large part on participation. Enjolras had no idea how he pulls it off.

When Grantaire does arrive, there is a marked difference in the atmosphere of the choir room. Everyone seems to come alive in a way that should not be possible considering that this is a before-school class.

Enjolras is absolutely not envious, thank you very much. After all, he’s a better singer than Grantaire, with a wider range and better technique, so it doesn’t matter all that much that he is not as popular among his peers as Grantaire is. Nor does it matter that every time Grantaire speaks or sings or blinks or breathes, Enjolras feels like his insides might just grow wings and fly away.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Today promises to be especially infuriating, as not only is Grantaire late, he also has two to-go cups of coffee clutched in his gloved hands. He waves cheerily to Sister Simplice - as much as he can, anyway, with his hands full like that - and begins to clamber through the choir risers, which is no small feat when said risers are crowded with chairs, backpacks, and other singers. He does eventually make his way to his place next to Enjolras, however, and he turns to him with a cocky grin.

“Hey, Apollo, how are we doing on this fine morning? Is the god of music maintaining his sphere?”

Enjolras gritted his teeth. “You’re late. Again. And we’re about to start singing, so we don’t have time to chat.”

Grantaire clicked his tongue. “No need to be testy, Apollo. I’m just making small talk. Hell, it’s almost enough to make me regret bringing you this latte.”

Enjolras frowned, thrown off-balance despite himself. “You bought me coffee?”

“Sure did,” Grantaire answered cheerfully. “I didn’t know your order, though, so let’s hope it was a lucky guess.”

Enjolras furtively glanced at the conductor’s stand. Cosette Faunchelevent had raised a pressing question about something or other in the soprano part, and Sister Simplice was answering it in what appeared to be unnecessarily extensive detail. He deemed it safe to take a small sip of the coffee, and had to take a moment to close his eyes and process that, because that was just fucking spooky -

“Did I get it right?” Grantaire asked, smug. “I totally got it right, didn’t I? I knew it - I’m the best at figuring out people’s coffee orders, it’s basically a super power -“

“Go out with me.”

Grantaire sputtered to a stop. “Sorry, what?”

“Go out with me.” Enjolras said, terse. “Today you figured out my coffee order. Yesterday you presented me with three wild roses you claimed to have stolen from your neighbor’s yard. The day before that you stuck a chocolate bar - Milky Way! My favorite kind! - into my backpack when I wasn’t looking, and the day before that -“

“Look,” Grantaire cut him off urgently, “if you feel like all of that somehow makes you obligated to go out with me, don’t worry. It doesn’t. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just —“ 

“Oh my God, shut up,” Enjolras cut him off. “I’m asking you to date me because I want to date you. I am actually infuriated by how attracted I am to you. You’re literally so hot. Go out with me.”

Grantaire looked startled, but a pleased expression started to creep over it. “Well, since you’re asking so nicely,” he responded.

“Boys!” Sister Simplice cut in. “What could possibly be so important that it causes you to ignore instructions from your conductor?”

Grantaire raised his eyebrows at Enjolras, before turning to Sister Simplice with a smirk. “Nothing, Sister,” he said placatingly. “Enjolras was just letting me know how infuriating he finds me.”

Enjolras couldn’t argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Joy, a choral work composed by Hans Bridger Heruth. If you liked this and want to tell me why or if you hated it and want to come yell at me, you can find me [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/radiance-of-the-future). Comments are welcome, as long as they’re respectful.


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